On Love and Desire | ✔

5 | so let's be honest

CHAPTER FIVE - so let's be honest

Sleep, as it turned out, did not take over Desmond. His thoughts raced leagues faster than his body's ability to shut down. So he gave up on it altogether. No sleep for him, at least not anytime soon. Forty-eight hours, two whole days, of not sleeping. And counting. His brain was nothing but mush at that point. Over-thinking mush.

Desmond rolled his eyes, slipped off his satin night cap, and left the comfort of his blanket.

His eyes were immediately attacked by the sun's rays. An inward screech came out of him as he rushed to cover his eyes with a hand. He used the other one to feel for and pull the curtains of his window towards him so that the sun could stop with its bullshit. He tripped over his own self while he pulled the curtains. His head dropped on his pillow and thankfully not the headboard, but when he fell, he stopped covering his eyes in order to protect himself out of instinct. Which led to another range of attacks from the sun's rays. A second screech came out of him as he attempted to fight off the intangible enemy. Somewhere along the way he got a hold of the curtain and managed to successfully pull it towards him enough to banish the light from his room. Once he was done, he put his hands down and fell to his knees in relief, on the bed. He was able to feel the wild thumps of his rib-caged heart without the need to put a hand on his chest. So there it was. Yet another reason he wasn't able to sleep. Too much adrenaline ran through his veins from all that commotion to dare to sleep.

Why the hell was he so sensitive to sunlight? Desmond, as far as he knew, wasn't a fucking vampire. But he might as well have been one.

A ping on his phone caught Desmond's attention. He picked up his phone and unlocked it to check his notifications.

The ping came from a message by the subject of the main reason he couldn't sleep. No one other than Mercy Teresa Robinson. How the hell was she awake? She was never up so early in the day, no matter what. She learned that the hard way with morning classes. She always overslept. Her alarms never worked. Desmond had to knock on her window or threaten to break it by throwing somewhat-heavy rocks at it (though he wouldn't dare to admit that anywhere around her dads' vicinities; they hated that kind of stuff for obvious reasons) to make her wake up. Their walk together in the middle of the night would've only made things worse for her. Less time to sleep through the night. It took them at least an hour to walk back home from wherever the hell they ended up walking to. And he knew for sure it was at least an hour because the walk back was, for the most part, one that they didn't use to speak to each other. Which by the way, no, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Totally not. He used that opportunity to keep himself busy by counting the steps he made. As he put one foot ahead of the other over and over again, on the sidewalk curb, he realized every step took about a second's worth of time. He took a certain amount of steps before he got tired of counting that amounted to about fifty-one minutes. Who knew how long they'd been talking before they walked back home, too. So yeah, with all of those factors in consideration, it must've meant she hadn't slept at all. Like him.

The whispers of a smile tugged at each corner of Desmond's lips as he read her text message. He couldn't help it, despite his worries.

<<< haha!! saw u punch the air! 👀 you're a clown. here's a pair of sunglasses for ya: 🕶️ good night~ 😉🤗 >>>

Desmond left his bed to get ready for the new day as he typed a response. With each second that passed, the more strength the whispers of a smile gained on his face. <<< thx, but what the fck r u doing? why r u awake?? go the fck to sleep >>>

Mercy replied in half a second. <<< i am!! so shut up!!! i said good night 4 a reason u fucker. why are YOU awake? 🤨 can't stop thinking about me?? miss me already, my sweet dear? 😏😜 >>>